Braver in our Evangelism

Estimated Reading time: 8 minutes · Written by Tim chilvers

When I was first asked to think about my own faith journey, the question that immediately came to mind was simple but profound: who has had the greatest impact on me? As I looked back, names began to surface–parents, teachers, friends, mentors–people who, in big or small ways, nudged me towards Jesus. If I am honest, I sometimes take their influence for granted. Yet when I pause, I realise just how significant their courage was in sharing faith with me. Perhaps they never even knew the role they played. That’s why, whenever I can, I try to say thank you.

At Riverside Church, we’ve been exploring what it means to imagine our future. If we were to fast forward to 2028 and look back, what would we want Riverside to be like? We’ve identified three atmosphere changes: being riskier in our faith, braver in our evangelism, and deeper in our discipleship. Last week we explored risk. Next week we’ll look at depth. But today, I want to reflect on what it really means to be braver in evangelism, and why this matters now more than ever.

What do we think evangelism is?

The very word ‘evangelism’ often makes people tense up. I see it whenever I speak about it. Risk? People nod enthusiastically. Discipleship? A warm sense of agreement. But evangelism? Suddenly the atmosphere shifts, as though I’ve mentioned something awkward or outdated. We think of street preachers shouting in the city centre, or people awkwardly steering every conversation back to God in ways that feel forced. Others picture standing on a stage in front of thousands. For most of us, it feels intimidating, not for me, we say.

But the word itself is simpler than all that. It comes from Greek and simply means good news. Think back to the Christmas story, where the angels appear to the shepherds: “I bring you good news of great joy.” That word ‘good news’ is evangelism. At its heart, it’s about sharing something joyful, something life-giving.

And here’s the thing: we are all natural evangelists already. If you’ve seen a brilliant film, you tell your friends. If you’ve just fallen in love, you don’t keep it quiet. If you’ve got an exciting holiday booked, it’s hard not to talk about it. Sharing good news makes the joy bigger. Albert Schweitzer once said, “Happiness is the only thing that multiplies when you share it.” That’s exactly the principle behind evangelism, except the good news here is the best of all.

The power of story

When we read the book of Acts, we find the earliest Christians naturally telling others about Jesus wherever they went. It wasn’t about standing in pulpits but simply speaking from their own experience. That’s something I’ve learned over the years: my story matters, and so does yours.

I once sat in a heated discussion among friends. The conversation about God was sharp, almost hostile. Arguments flew around the table, some anti-faith, some strongly defensive. In the middle of it, one of my mates, who’d had a tough upbringing and little education, simply said: “Look, I don’t understand all the questions. I don’t even know the words you’re using. All I know is Jesus has changed my life.” The room fell silent. The power of a personal story spoke louder than any intellectual sparring.

We sometimes dismiss our own testimony, thinking it’s too ordinary or unimpressive. But in today’s culture, where lived experience is deeply valued, no one can deny your story. I’ve seen time and again how the quiet sharing of what Jesus has done in someone’s life stirs interest, even envy, in others.

The opportunity of now

We live in turbulent times. Aggression, division, political violence, cultural fragmentation, it often feels overwhelming. Many of the answers society has offered–consumerism, self-expression, digital distraction–are proving hollow. People are restless, searching. You see it in the rise of alternative spiritualities, interest in ghosts, or experimentation with hallucinogens. There’s a hunger for something deeper, something real.

Even mainstream media is noticing. Vanity Fair recently ran a piece suggesting that in places like Silicon Valley, Christianity, once mocked, is now drawing new curiosity. As the article put it, “Whereas in the past, a claim to be Christian might have been greeted with hostility or mockery, now it’s more likely to arouse interest and even envy.” I’ve experienced this myself in conversations. People who once would have dismissed faith now lean in with questions.

This is why I believe we’re at a unique moment. For decades we’ve lived in what some call a post-Christian culture, where the remnants of Christianity still shaped values even as many drifted away. But now we are seeing a pre-Christian culture emerging, a generation with no exposure to church at all, starting with a blank page. Far from being bleak, I think this is incredibly exciting. It means fewer people carry cynicism from bad experiences; they are simply open, curious, ready to hear.

You and your circle

In Acts, we read that some early believers spoke only to Jews, others only to Greeks. In other words, they began with their own circles, their own communities. The same applies today. There are people in your world–colleagues, neighbours, friends, family—for whom you may be the only Christian they know. You may be the one who voices the questions they secretly carry.

I remember a colleague once emailing about a student’s parent who had passed away. I wanted to say I was praying, but worried it might seem unprofessional. In the end, I felt prompted to share it gently. To my surprise, she was deeply moved, grateful, and encouraged. Often we imagine we’ll offend people, but research suggests the opposite. A study called Talking Jesus found that when non-Christians were asked how they felt when someone spoke to them about Jesus, 75% said they were comfortable, 41% felt closer to the Christian afterwards, and a third wanted to know more.

Sometimes the barrier isn’t people’s openness but our own fear. A friend once confessed he didn’t want to ask me about faith because he was worried his questions might somehow damage my belief–he didn’t want to ruin it for me! That conversation taught me that people are often more cautious around us than we are around them.

Different shapes, different gifts

Not all of us are natural extroverts or persuasive speakers. Some thrive on bold conversations with strangers, others are more comfortable simply inviting a friend to church, or posting honestly about faith on social media, or praying quietly for colleagues. Every contribution counts. Your shape, your character, your gifts matter. Together, the variety creates a body of believers through which the good news spreads in countless ways.

At Riverside, we often talk about simple steps: invite a friend to Alpha, give someone a Bible, pray daily for a neighbour, or just dare to say, “I’m a Christian.” Each small act matters. And when multiplied across a community, they make a powerful impact.

Imagine if…

A member of our church, Linda, once shared a phrase that came to her in prayer: “Everyone win one.” Imagine if each of us were able to help just one person come to faith in a year. If that multiplied each year, do you know how long it would take to reach the whole of Birmingham? Eleven years. The whole of Britain? Seventeen years. The entire world? Twenty-four. It’s staggering, and it begins with just one.

Rooted in prayer

Of course, evangelism isn’t ultimately about us. We don’t change hearts, God does. That’s why prayer is central. In Acts, we read that “the Lord’s hand was with them, and a great number of people believed.” The promise is that God is with us too. He never leaves us. When we step into conversations, when we risk vulnerability, when we share our story, His Spirit is at work.

At Riverside, we’ve made prayer gatherings a priority, because we know that courage in evangelism grows out of time with God. Prayer births opportunities, softens hearts, and sustains us when we feel discouraged.

Taking a step

So, where does that leave us? I’ve found it helpful to think of evangelism not as one giant leap but as steps. For some of us, the first step might be simply praying for someone regularly. For others, it could be asking a friend a deeper question over coffee. For some, it may be sharing your story openly for the first time. And for a few, it could even be inviting someone to explore faith more directly–“Have you ever thought about God in your life?”

We don’t all need to do everything, but we all can do something. And if we each take just one step of bravery, who knows what God might do with it?

The original teaching has been edited for clarity and brevity; This is not a transcript.